The night before, I set it on the nursery bookshelf, angling the lens to capture the bassinet and the nursing chair.

The next morning I kissed Brooke’s forehead, grabbed my briefcase, and told my mother I had an all-day strategy meeting.

I walked out the front door, got in my car, and drove exactly three blocks before pulling into a deserted parking lot.

I killed the engine, opened the hidden camera’s feed on my iPad, and waited.

I didn’t know what I was looking for. The cold knot in my stomach said I was about to find it.

Chapter 3 — The Feed

For the first hour, everything was quiet. Brooke slept in the oversized glider, her head against the side, exhausted.